


Coming Back to Life

by artemis1967



Category: Walker (TV 2020)
Genre: Angst, M/M, NSFW pic, Sex, first time in a long time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-13 15:07:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29030652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artemis1967/pseuds/artemis1967
Summary: He parks his truck and gets out without paying much attention to his surroundings, which is perhaps why he notices the red Mustang too late.For a few seconds, he can't breathe.
Relationships: Cordell Walker/Hoyt Rawlins
Comments: 8
Kudos: 34





	Coming Back to Life

It was a great day for Cordell and one he didn't even know he needed. A few beers with his new partner helped lift his spirits, breaking through some of the barriers he developed to protect himself in the process. Micki is like a wild colt and untamed. Not that she needs to be tamed, of course. Cordell admires her strong personality and knows she's the perfect partner for him, especially now in this turbulent phase of his life.

Whistling along with the music playing on the radio, he feels good about himself for the first time since his life was turned inside out. Less burdened without all the stress of the undercover job and surrounded by his family again, despite the pain that someone's absence causes and that never seems to end.

He parks his truck and gets out without paying much attention to his surroundings, which is perhaps why he notices the red Mustang too late.

For a few seconds, he can't breathe.

The man leaning against the car is imposing and handsome as Cordell remembers. The beard makes Hoyt look older, though. His smile, that always made Cordell melt, and the taste for flannel are still the same. Those blue eyes seem to devour him, making him feel naked despite the clothes he's wearing.

He'd like to believe that the time hasn't passed, that yesterday was the last time the red car parked in that exact place. The reality is much more brutal, however.

Emotions come to the surface.

Hurt.

_Where the hell you've been when I needed you?_

Abandon.

_I needed you so badly._

Anger.

_I still need you._

Cordell's hands clench into fists.

Around them, the silence seems to understand the gravity of the moment.

Hoyt walks away from the car, still smiling, and stops so close that Cordell can smell the familiar scent of his perfume, one that has been impregnated many times in his own clothes in the past.

The punch comes out of nowhere, as if Cordell's hand has a will of its own. Hoyt doesn't get away, though, receiving the impact on his face. He stumbles but doesn't fall. Red stains his beautiful lips and he spits on the floor before smirking, "Still shooting first and asking questions later, Cordi?"

The affectionate nickname sounds dirty in that mouth he knows so well, and the accusation is unfounded, of course, because Cordell is willing to give the benefit of the doubt. But it's not the case here.

Losing the little control he still has over his emotions, Cordell goes to Hoyt with as much force as possible. Both fall to the ground and the air is punched out of his lungs as his back hit the hard surface.

Despite being a trained cop—he's a fucking Ranger for God’s sake—his anger leaves him careless and Hoyt takes advantage of it. A muscular arm tightens against his neck.

"Calm down, damn it! We need to talk," Hoyt growls, and he's too close, close to the point of beginning to awaken that intense feeling of want, one that he thought was dead inside him.

"Don't!" He screams, pushing on the arm holding him. "You left me."

Using the strength that comes from anger, Cordell pushes Hoyt off him, but as soon as the tall body lands on the ground for the second time tonight, he feels empty and sure that the spaces cannot be filled.

Breathing hard, he gets up and watches Hoyt do the same.

"There's nothing to talk about." This is not the whole truth. He wants to know why, though what remains of his dignity seems more important right now.

Then he realizes the Mustang's proximity and turns around to hide the sudden wetness in his eyes. His hands touch the hood, almost reverently, the act bringing back many memories of a happy time.

Hoyt doesn't ask for permission to invade his space. The chest against his back is solid as he remembers and the hands on his hips still fit perfectly. Cordell shivers, closing his eyes to try to contain the desire resurfacing with a vengeance in his body.

"I couldn't live that lie anymore," a soft voice says against his ear, and the beard scratching the delicate skin of his neck shouldn't feel so good.

Hoyt's admission is not a surprise to Cordell. He spent hours alone in the darkness of his room and wondering why so it's likely he covered all possible reasons.

"I wish you had a chance."

Cordell snorts at the absurdity of the explanation. Hoyt beside him is the only option he knows.

They were so young when Cordell agreed to be the father of Emily's children. The wedding was just convenient because she needed to leave an abusive home while he needed the straight guy's image to be accepted into the job he always dreamed of. Hoyt knew it and always seemed good about it. Now Cordell knows the truth.

"And after she died..." He closes his eyes, not wanting to hear that. "I tried to find you, but no one could give me any information about your damn secret operation."

He lets Hoyt turn him around. Let him hold his jaw in warm, callused hands. Let him see his soul with those blue eyes.

"Forgive me. Please."

Suddenly that undeniable sensation is there, that he needs Hoyt as badly as he needs air to breathe.

He's the one who takes the final step.

Cordell kisses him, his tongue demanding entry into the willing mouth, in a frantic and urgent way, as if the world is about to end. With a soft noise, Hoyt kisses back, hands still on Cordell’s face. His hands grab flannel, his heart is hammering, and he needs everything Hoyt can give him.

After that, it's a blur. Hands push and take clothes off, eyes watch every inch of skin revealed, and mouths kiss, voracious and hungry.

Cordell ends up on his back on the hood because the jerk is still the toppiest topper ever. Not that it's a problem for Walker. He likes not being in control during sex, mainly considering it's much more pleasurable for him to lie down and just take it, even more with a lover like Hoyt.

He gasps out when the first finger makes its way into him.

"So tight, baby. It doesn't seem like you've had anything here all this time," he says, a proud smirk on his lips.

Although it's true, the impertinence of the conclusion evokes a mix of anger and desire in him. "You'll never know, don't you?" It's Cordell's turn to smirk, but the next finger is enough to make his eyes roll back in his head and his back arch.

"Yeah! Much better." Hoyt's grin widens as he adds a third finger and fucks him with the same damn efficiency Cordell remembers.

When he is ready, Hoyt guides himself right inside, almost black eyes never leaving Cordell's. He wants to hide from the scrutiny but also wants to drown in it.

"Just open up for me."

He does, even without thinking about it. He just stays there, on the hood of the Mustang, spread open, exposed, and vulnerable.

A low growl is all the warning he has before Hoyt starts pounding into him, the tight grip of hands on his waist keeping him in place. He knows his body will have marks when it's over, but each one is wanted because then he'll be able to look at them tomorrow and remember what happened and that he had it again.

A warm hand wraps loosely around the base of his cock, more as a way of connecting than properly stroking it. The inside of his thighs presses against bare hips and heels dig into the firm skin of Hoyt's buttocks.

Sex is easy, something their bodies understand, familiar movements of hips and hands, giving pleasure, burning, and consuming.

Cordell had forgotten how much he likes this, having Hoyt inside him, hard, hot, and huge.

"Still so pretty with a dick in you, baby." Arrogance seems to seep out of Hoyt in waves, causing butterflies in Cordell's stomach, as much as he also wants to punch him again. However, precise touches against his prostate make him moan in response to Hoyt's delight, if the giant smirk on the beautiful face is any indication.

Son of a bitch. He has no right to come back to his life and in less than half an hour already has Cordell falling apart for him again.

His legs tighten and a hand grabs the blond hair, both intending to cause pain.

"And you're still the same presumptuous and irritant." Cordell kisses him in that delightfully filthy way they both love so much. Tongue pushes and probes until it's he who is being kissed and dominated and gasping for breath. When Hoyt finally pulls away, his lips hurt and his thighs tremble slightly.

"I missed you so much." The raw emotion on the bearded face eases some of the hurt that still lingers in Cordell's chest, and it takes him a few moments to realize that the desperate gasps breaking the silence are coming from his own mouth.

He wants it to last as long as possible, but it's so frantic and intense that soon that well-known sensation that starts in his groin spreads heavenly. "Hoyt!" He calls out the name he has been avoiding for the past few months while his orgasm tears through him.

"So pretty when you come, Cordi." The tone is reverent and quite different from the previous provocation.

Cordell feels the rigid member throbbing inside him, feels pleasure still brilliant on his nerves, feels like coming back to life. The way Hoyt intertwines their fingers, the way he thrusts long and faster inside him makes Cordell smile for the first time since he set his eyes on the Mustang and its owner again.

That beautiful mouth returns his smile and soon there's wetness inside him, filling him, dripping from between his buttocks.

A hand grabs his hair, and he's kissed, sweet and deep this time, no trace of the desperation of before, and maybe his vision is blurred by tears when the kiss ends; they don't fall, however.

"We better get it inside, Cordi, before those fucking Rangers arrest us for public indecency."

Cordell huffs out a pleasant, sincere laugh, not wanting to imagine the possible scandal.

"And we don't want that, right?" It's easier than he imagined going back to the great complicity that has always been part of their relationship.

"At least, not right now."

"Your role is to keep me in line and not give me ideas, idiot."

He accepts the help from the strong hands to get out of the car because his legs are still not so steady.

They enter his house, talk a little while eating two pizzas, shower together, and fuck two more times before everything finally settles down.

Exhausted and pleasantly sore, he can barely move in bed. There's still a lot to talk about—they need to fill in the blanks of many months—but not now.

Hoyt stops by the door carrying two water bottles, sexy as hell wearing only Cordell's sweatpants. 'Hydration is key' he had said before going to the kitchen.

"What?" He asks, self-aware of his nakedness for the first time tonight.

Hoyt gives him a look that makes his breath hitches and sticks in his throat.

"I'd forgotten how pretty you look all fucked out."

The pillow he throws at Hoyt misses its mark, but he still manages to roll his eyes, "I don't know why I ask."

The smug bastard approaches, placing the two bottles on the nightstand before settling beside him. Then inquiring eyes are the invitation Cordell needs, and his head finds its place on Hoyt's chest.

They lay there for a few minutes in comfortable silence, and then, "No more hiding, Cordi. I want everyone to know who you really belong to." The possessiveness in Hoyt's voice makes his cock show signs of life, although it’s unlikely that he'll get another full erection in the next half hour. But it doesn't matter, because they have the rest of their lives ahead of them.

His mouth quirks into a smile, "No more hiding."


End file.
